


Never Get Back Home

by rose_griffes



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: (cylon) exploitation of women, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-09-15
Updated: 2008-09-15
Packaged: 2019-10-08 16:34:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,516
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17389847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rose_griffes/pseuds/rose_griffes
Summary: It catches you by surprise--a flash of giddiness that you're working next to Samuel T. Anders. All of them: Sue-Shaun, Barolay, Hillard... names you used to hear on the wireless.





	Never Get Back Home

**Author's Note:**

> Imported from the original livejournal post, January 2019.

It catches you by surprise--a flash of giddiness that you're working next to _Samuel T. Anders_. All of them: Sue-Shaun, Barolay, Hillard... names you used to hear on the wireless. You think for a moment how you'll tell your friends about this, then you remember. You and your friends will never watch vids of the C-Buc games together again or argue about stats or whether or not Anders had a girlfriend and which of you he'd like better. It was stupid, really.

\- - - - -

The first time you ever saw Mama point a weapon at a person was the day of the attacks. You'd been setting up the tent by yourself--Dad was coming later, after work--when a man stumbled into the campground, wide-eyed and pale.

"Did you hear?" he asked. "The cities have all been attacked!" He said something about nuclear bombs and cylons and none of it made any sense. Mama stepped closer to you as the man continued talking. He quieted suddenly--looking at you both, seeing the otherwise-empty campground. His expression was like Mama's when she was doing math in her head.

"You'll need protection," he said. The skin on the back of your neck prickled and your stomach felt tight.

Mama took two quick steps toward the truck door, popped it open and picked up the hunting rifle from the back seat. "We got protection," she said, and disengaged the safety. You stared at her, then looked back at the man. He didn't move. Mama said, "Trina, get into the truck." You walked past her, hopped inside and slid across to the passenger seat.

She pointed the rifle at the man. "You need to leave. Now." You watched him walk out of the campground, then Mama climbed into the truck, locked the door and handed you the rifle. That's when you saw that her hands were shaking. Sitting quietly, you looked at the scenery through the windows and side mirrors, watching for movement. She finally turned on the wireless and there it was--just what the creepy man had said. The announcer's voice cracked like she was trying not to cry. You listened in silence. After starting the engine, Mama turned the truck around and slowly drove away from the campsite, heading away from your home.

You asked, "Where are we going?"

"Away from the city. Maybe into the mountains."

"What about Dad?"

Mama didn't answer for a long time. Finally she said, "You heard what they said on the wireless. Where the bombs hit. Even if he's alive now, he won't live long with that kind of radiation." She drove fast on the unpaved road; the truck rattled. After a moment she added quietly, "It would be better if he died right away."

\- - - - -

Almost seven weeks after the attack. Less than a week since you found the C-Bucs. You've picked off a few bullet-heads using the scope. It's not as hard as you thought--take a deep breath, concentrate, let out some of the air and hold, then squeeze the trigger. You're not sure how it's going to feel when you shoot a skin-job.

"Hop up here, kid." Normally Sue-Shaun gives you a teasing grin when she calls you that; this time she doesn't smile. You climb onto the counter next to her and swing your feet back and forth.

"Hey. I know you're probably nervous, so just remember--shoot for the head and make it quick. Another cylon just like it will be along soon enough."

"Right." You don't tell her about how thinking about this makes you want to throw up. Sue-Shaun gives you a pat on the shoulder anyway.

"We'll have a couple of our guys on lookout, so you can get your ass out of there safe, okay?" When she says 'our guys' you know she means other C-Bucs, and you're relieved. Some of those survivalists and that preacher make you nervous, same as that guy on the day of the attacks.

Sue-Shaun adds, "We don't want you to disappear, too."

You blink a couple of times and nod. Anders had told you about the women gone missing; no one knows what's happening to them, but they haven't been finding dead or injured women--only men.

You feel relieved, knowing that Mama probably hadn't just left you; then you feel guilty about it. Even so, it helps to be reminded that Mama wouldn't have abandoned you, not if she'd had a choice.

You let that thought build up in your head. Those cylons took her away, they took _everything_ away. You tell yourself that you won't hesitate or flinch when it's time to shoot.

\- - - - -

Mama disappeared three weeks after the attack. When you came back to your campsite the rifle was missing and the tent was empty. You looked for traces of her but found nothing. Staying in the area, you didn't sleep in the tent; instead you found a protected hollow near a tree. You waited but she didn't come back.

After a week you went back to the cabins you and Mama had raided before--the vacation homes deep in the mountains.

The university students found you a few days later. They were noisy and boisterous and it felt like such a relief to be with them--but somehow wrong. You'd gotten used to the quiet; their loud laughter felt like disrespect to the dead. So many dead. When Mama had been with you she said prayers each night for the departed. Now you repeated them to yourself when everyone else was asleep.

\- - - - -

Jean and Sam are in the high school kitchen, looking through the cabinets. When Sam sees you walk in the door he comes over and gives you a sideways hug. You feel yourself blushing, but it's nice. Jean smiles at Sam, then at you.

"Everyone okay?" Sam asks.

"Yeah. All safe." The operation had gone just as planned. You're still feeling overwhelmed right now and don't know what else to say.

Sam gives you an intent look. "How about you? You okay?"

You nod, then say, "It was weird, you know?" You shrug.

Leaning against the stove, Jean says, "First time I killed a skinjob was in close range. Messy."

Sam looks at her with a hint of exasperation. Looking back at you he says, "Not messy for you, I hope."

"No. She just... fell. It. It just fell--I could see the hole on its forehead and then it went down." You think to yourself: _she looked so small, lying on the ground. One spot on her forehead and she's not moving, not going to move ever again._

"First time's always hard," says Sam. "And even after that. Just remember that they're not spending any time worrying about how _we_ all feel about dying."

\- - - - -

The first time your dad took you hunting, you were seven years old. You remember the chill in the air. Mama had made both of you wear jackets, though Dad took his off as soon as you were out of her sight.

Not your first time to handle a rifle--target practice had been exhilarating and you were excited to try for real game.

When you finally hit something, it shocked you--the blood dark and sticky on your hands, the stillness of your prey. The picture Mama took that day shows Dad holding your kill triumphantly in the air, a big smile on his face. You were standing next to him like a solemn miniature guard, your rifle incongruously large in your small hands.

Dad would show the picture to all his friends when they visited, for years after that. "Our little Artemis," he'd call you. You practiced shooting targets and read about the native prey, just so you could spend more time with him during hunting season.

\- - - - -

When Jean sees you peeking into the classroom, she waves. "Come in if you want." Gesturing toward the altar she's made with a desk, cloth and hand-made idols, she says, "I like to pray before a big mission."

Sitting in another desk facing the makeshift altar, you take the polished stone out of your pocket. It's engraved with a robed woman on one side and an arrow on the other--Artemis. Jean's altar has Artemis as well, a rough carving made of wood.

"Lords of Kobol, hear our prayers." Jean's voice is reverent, a side of her that you haven't seen before. "Keep your people safe in battle. Guide us in our hunt. Watch over those who stay behind."

After the traditional three petitions you whisper, "So say we all."

"So say we all," repeats Jean. She lights a small bundle of dried grasses in a bowl from the school cafeteria. The two of you watch the flames flicker until the grasses are burned away.

\- - - - -

Six weeks since the attacks, two weeks with the university students. Alec had a calendar; he was the one who kept track of dates, supplies and people. Organizing everyone into teams, he planned the quick (he hoped) foray back to Delphi for medical supplies. The day you left the mountain campground was exactly forty-three days after the worlds ended.

You'd missed your birthday. You didn't know whether to laugh or cry about it, but no one else knew anyway.

As they were finishing preparations Alec pulled you aside. "Listen. I think you should stay here with the others." Some of the students were staying behind, including Alec's girlfriend Tanith.

You gave him an impatient glare. He acted like a big brother--or at least, how you thought a big brother would act--but he didn't get to tell you what to do.

"No, seriously. I won't be able to look out for you while we're traveling."

"Look out for me? Have _you_ ever held a rifle?"

He looked embarrassed for a moment, but then continued. "That's the other thing. I was actually hoping you might stay with Tanith." He pulled you further away from the group and lowered his voice. "She's pregnant. I think she needs someone to help her."

You looked at him. Science wasn't your favorite subject but you knew enough to understand that this was a bad situation. Alec exhaled, then flushed at your close scrutiny. He didn't seem like anyone's big brother now, or like a future doctor; just a scared kid who wasn't really that much older than you.

"I think what you need is someone who can actually shoot to come with you and make sure that you get the supplies you're going to need."

He didn't answer at first. Finally he said, "Yeah. I do."

Later Tanith hugged you good-bye and said, "Keep an eye on him for me, okay?"

You promised you would, then you put on your backpack, picked up the rifle from the second cabin you'd raided, and left with the others for Delphi.

\- - - - -

You wake up with a headache. Trying to touch your head, you start to move your hand and it _hurts_ , really hurts, and then you see that your arm is splinted and wrapped in white bandages.

The last thing you can remember was getting ready to leave on a mission with some of the C-Bucs.

You listen for any sounds, but everything is indistinct, muffled. A man walks into the room carrying a clipboard. He has dark skin and big brown eyes like Sue-Shaun's; like your dad's eyes. Smiling at you he asks, "How are you feeling today?"

"Like I'm going to throw up," you state. "Where am I?"

"You're in a hospital. The nausea will pass--it's probably from the concussion. Your wrist is broken. It'll be better in a few weeks."

"How is there a hospital still functioning? Why didn't I know about it?" You're careful not to say 'we.'

He acts amused at your suspicious attitude. "The west side of Delphi was mostly undamaged. We get the currents off the ocean that blow most of the radioactive material in the other direction. Plus we stay _very_ quiet."

"And the cylons just leave you alone?"

The smile leaves his face. "We're careful. Really careful. And to be honest, we're not valuable to them--there aren't many patients here, and they're mostly dying of radiation sickness from exposure those first days after the attacks."

He checks your pulse on your undamaged wrist, then pops a thermometer in your mouth.

"Do you remember how you got here?"

You shake your head no.

"There are a few civilians still around who keep an eye on things and bring us new patients. You were found alone in a building near a firefight between the Resistance and some cylons."

You wonder what happened to your backup. Were they killed?

"You were pretty out of it when you arrived. So how about now--feel like you can answer a few questions for me? Just routine stuff." He takes the thermometer again and writes something down on the chart.

You shrug.

Taking that as an assent, he looks at a checklist. "How old are you?"

"Sixteen."

"Where were you during the nuclear strikes?"

"At a campground about eighty clicks north of Delphi."

He looks at you and nods. "One of the lucky ones, then."

"Yeah, I guess."

"Where have you been staying since then?"

You don't want to be too specific--especially about Delphi Union High--but you feel obliged to give correct information because he's a doctor. "Mostly I stayed in the mountains until a week ago." It feels longer than that somehow, but you know it's right--Morris has been keeping track with a calendar in one of the classrooms.

"And when was the date of your last menstrual cycle?"

"Um... three weeks ago?" You face feels hot but the doctor doesn't act like anything's unusual. He pulls out a hypodermic needle and picks up your hand again, turning it sideways to look at the inside of your arm.

"Have you been sexually active since then?"

"No." More blushing, but then... wait. Something about this feels wrong. Before you can say anything else, he smiles again and injects the needle into the crook of your elbow. "Well, Trina, that's all I need from you."

The doctor steps to the door; you want to say something but your mouth doesn't work right. When he opens the door you can see in the hallway; there's old Preacher-Man--Brother Cavil--and the blonde female cylon you've seen before...

\- - - - -

You see your mother one more time, though she doesn't recognize you. Her eyes are shut; she's hooked up to machinery just like you, in the next little pod of women. You try and call for her but you can't make the words come out properly. The brown-eyed cylon sees your agitation and moves you to another room.

\- - - - -

The red-haired woman comes to see you. You can't remember her name. She walks over to you and whispers, "Trina." You blink. She goes away for a moment; you can hear thumping noises and something breaking. She comes back with a chair, sits down and holds your hand; you listen to the machinery beeping, then gradually slowing down.


End file.
